


Vulcan Courtship

by ShiftingSideways



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiftingSideways/pseuds/ShiftingSideways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:  "Jim looks towards McCoy (they are drinking of course), and says in complete seriousness: 'I think I might be dating Spock.' "  (Full prompt inside.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full prompt:   
> _"Jim looks towards McCoy (they are drinking of course), and says in complete seriousness: "I think I might be dating Spock."_
> 
> _Spock is not great with emotion and he's very discrete, so when he starts courting the captain, at first Jim doesn't even notice. It starts small, meaningful looks over chess, invitations to eat together, even Vulcan kisses (which Jim thought were just innocent hand brushes) all favorably received, so Spock thinks that they're on the same page (because judging by Vulcan standards, he's really putting himself out there). But eventually Jim realizes that he hasn't hit on anyone or even thought about being with anyone else for a while now, that he spends about 90% of his time with Spock, and all the physical contact shared probably isn't normal for captain and first officer, or people who are just friends. Problem is he isn't sure if he's dating Spock, or if this is just how all Vulcan's treat their friends, and it's not as if he can just ask him. Cue getting drunk with McCoy and asking the above question."_
> 
> Not a long fill, but hopefully cute.

It had all started innocently enough.

In fact, it was so innocent that it didn't even occur to Jim Kirk that there was an 'it' to think about.

But now that the thought had occurred to him, he couldn't shake it.  There was definitely an _it_ , but damned if he had any idea what it was.

Well, no.  That was a lie.  He had an idea.  An idea that he kept dismissing easily, but that kept creeping back when he least expected it.

Seriously, it couldn't be.

But there was only one way to confirm that it wasn't true, and that wasn't going to happen.

No way in any planet's variation on hell was that _ever_ going to happen.

But he'd been in limbo for far too long, which was why he was now drowning his confusion with alcohol. 

"More brandy, Bones?"

"...was that an offer or a request?"

"I dunno."  Kirk stretched for the brandy and poured himself another, then offered the container to McCoy, who accepted.

Jim stared into the glass.

"You drunk yet, Bones?"

McCoy raised his eyebrows.  "Why do you ask?  Wait, don't tell me.  I never end up liking what I hear."

Jim paused, and then took deliberate swig of brandy.

"I think I might be dating Spock."

McCoy blinks.  "...I didn't think I was _that_ drunk."

"I'm serious."

McCoy looked at him, then sighed and took a swig of his drink.

"I may regret it, but I'm listening."

Jim rubs his forehead.

"Um.  You know how Vulcans never touch anyone?  Like, ever?  Unless it's life or death?"

"Yeah."

"Spock touched my hand yesterday when he was passing me a Padd."

McCoy snorted.  "You sound like a twelve year old gushing over your first crush."

"Bones, this is _Spock_.  Has he _ever_ made accidental skin contact with you?  With anyone you know of?"

McCoy hesitated.  "...not really, no."

"And it wasn't the first time!"  Jim rubbed his head furiously.  "That was the first time I noticed, because he actually paused.  But now that I've noticed it...Bones, he's been doing it for _weeks_.  And not just might-be-accidental hand brushes, either."  He shook his head.  "God, Bones, I feel like an idiot here, I assure you.  But he's been giving me these indescribable _looks_ , over chess, or over dinner, or--hell!"   Kirk shook his head again and leaned back.

"Bones, he keeps inviting me to dinner at his place, and I didn't even think about it."

Bones just looked at him.  "Have you, I don't know, asked about it?"

Jim pushed back from the table and nearly fell over.  "Shit no!  What am I supposed to do?  Just go up and say 'Hey Spock, sorry to bother you, but have we been dating for the last two months, or am I just having the mother of all misinterpretations?'"  He shook his head again.  "Shit, I don't even know if gay Vulcans even exist."

McCoy raised his eyebrows.  "It would be logical."

Kirk scrunched his nose.  "Huh?"

"Nothing.  So..."  Bones glanced toward the ceiling and sighed.  "...I'm going to regret asking, but...which answer are you _hoping_ for?"

Kirk blinked.  "Uh..."

"I mean, didn't you bang every non-lesbian woman on campus?  Except Uhura?  So I've been kind of working on the assumption..."

Kirk grinned.  "Not _all_ of them.  Besides, I'd hate to limit my options."

"...why does you being bi not surprise me?"

Kirk shrugged.  "If you wanted to know, you should have asked.  Or hit on me."

McCoy raised his eyebrows.  "Well, there's your other answer."

"...what?"

"You want to know.  You won't ask."  McCoy made a shooing motion.  "So go hit on him."

Kirk blinked.  "You can't be serious."

McCoy leaned over and topped off his glass.  "Kid, you're drunk.  Use it.  If you think he's been hitting on you in his way, then go hit on him in yours and see what happens.  If bad things happen, blame the alcohol.  It worked for me."  He took a sip.  "Of course, we divorced later, but that was completely unrelated."

Jim gaped.  "That...Bones, my version of flirting usually involves some variation on 'hey, wanna bang?'."

"Well, do you?”

"Uh..."

"Wait...wait.  No.  What am I thinking, don't answer that.  I'm nowhere NEAR drunk enough to think about it."  He took another drink.  "But if you do...drunk alibi.  Have fun."  He winced.  "I mean, good luck.  I mean...you know what, never mind."  He stood.  "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go sleep off some of that conversation."

With that, he rose, gave a lopsided salute, and walked away, leaving a flabbergasted Jim in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, come to think of it, this is actually the first slash I've ever written (counting femslash separately). Hooray milestone! =D


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by popular request!  
> (Six comments within hours?! I should write popular pairs more often!)

Jim stumbled as he tried to navigate the unusually wobbly corridor. 

This was a bad idea.  This was a really, really bad idea.

He hit the buzzer a little harder than he intended, mostly because the bulkhead jumped out at him as he reached for it.  He’d definitely had more brandy than was good for him.

The door slid open.

…on second thought, he hadn’t had nearly enough.

“…Jim?”

“Hey,” said Kirk, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Are you quite all right?”

“I’m drunk,” he said, rather unnecessarily.  He took half a step sideways by mistake and nearly fell over.

Spock reached out and caught him, holding him by the arm and looking extremely uncertain through his Vulcan mask.

“Would you…like to sit down?”

Kirk reached out with his other hand and took hold of Spock’s shoulder, steadying himself.

“Uh-huh,” he said, eloquently.

Spock hesitated for a long moment, and then guided him inside, making no effort to avoid physical contact, though their uniforms still precluded any actual skin contact.

The door slid shut behind them, and Kirk made a valiant effort to avoid breaking away and making a run for it.  Mostly, he succeeded only because running was currently beyond him.

“Are you all right?” asked Spock again, still holding him up.  God, they were standing close together.

“Drinkin’ with Bones,” he muttered.  “Told me to get drunk.”

Spock’s eyebrow furrowed.  “That seems…doubtful advice from a medical professional.”

Kirk shook his head.  “Not doctor.  Friend.  He’s…yeah, friend.  I should get drunk.  _Am_ drunk.  Shit.”

He wobbled again, and Spock made a move to deposit him on a lightly-padded chair.  Kirk increased his grip on his shoulder and leaned forward.

“Shit,” he said again.  “Had to be drunk.”

Spock’s brow furrowed further.

“…to what are you referring?” he said.  Hesitantly?  Probably hesitantly.

Oh god.  So drunk.  Not nearly drunk enough.

Still leaning on Spock’s shoulder, Kirk pulled his arm from where Spock was still holding it.  Spock dropped his arm instantly, pulling back slightly (which much have been difficult with Kirk hanging off of him), but Kirk dove forward again.  Not intentionally.  He was going for “stepping forward”, but missed.

Either way, he managed what he was going for, which was grabbing Spock’s bare hand with his.  That was important.  Very important.  Somehow.

Spock froze and looked down at their joined hands.

“So drunk,” muttered Kirk to himself.

Spock looked up his face for a long, inscrutable moment, and then pulled his hand away.

“Captain,” he said in his most controlled voice.  “I believe you I should return you to your quarters.”

Kirk looked up, hurt.

“…already?”

“You are not yourself.”

“Yes I am,” he insisted, in roughly one word.  “I’m drunk.  Drunk self.”

Spock looked away.

“…if you are only willing to consider me while intoxicated…”

Kirk wrinkled his brow and blinked.  “What?  Wait.  Wait, no.  Not…”

He swayed again and caught himself, still leaning on Spock’s shoulder.  “Not…no.  Not like that.  Can’t talk.  Couldn’t…figure out what to say.”

Spock was looking at him in…confusion?  Probably.

Kirk tried to pull himself together.  This was important.

“Wanted…to say,” he insisted.  “Couldn’t figure out how.”

Spock was looking at him again.  That was…good?  Terrifying?  Oh god.

“Wanted to,” he insisted again.  “You’re…telepath.  You tell me.”

Spock still didn’t move.

Kirk scowled.  “Stupid Vulcan…something.  Dunno.  Something.”  Understand.  He needed to make him understand.

He shifted forward again, and put his hand out, catching himself with his hand flat on Spock’s chest.

“Understand,” he muttered, and then leaned all the way forward and kissed him.

Spock froze entirely.

Then, hesitantly, he reached up and touched the back of Jim’s hand on his chest.

Jim closed his eyes, and he was pretty sure he could feel it when Spock lowered his telepathic shields—he could feel something warm through his hand that had nothing to do with the temperature of Spock’s skin.  It was like a whisper, or a breeze across bare skin.

He felt Spock relax slightly and then draw him closer.  That was better.  Yes.  Much better.

All too soon, Spock broke the kiss.

“Jim,” he said.  “You are drunk.”

“I know.”

“You should sleep.”

Jim made a move to protest, but Spock silenced him.

“Sleep,” he repeated.   “If…you still have the same intentions in the morning, we may speak then.”

Kirk made a face.  “Not good at talking sober.”

Spock raised an eyebrow.  “Perhaps a skill set it would be constructive for us to practice.”

Kirk took a steadying breath.  “ ’kay.”

He pushed himself up and let go, trying to stand on his own.  He swayed dangerously, and Spock caught his arm again.

“I will accompany you.”

Kirk gave an off-kilter grin.  “…walk me home?”

“Afirmative.”

“ ’kay.”

“…tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah.” 

As they walked down the hallway, Jim smiled and made a rather illegible mental note to thank Bones in the morning.

* * *

In the morning, he scratched it out that mental note and replaced it with a threat and a demand for a hangover remedy.


End file.
